As we’re slowly inching our way closer to warmer weather, my stomach is slowly inching its way to larger pastures. Quite poetic, actually.
This past weekend, my favorite skinny jeans and I came to an agreement to give each other some space, via button. This decision was not made lightly, because we all know that unbuttoned pants are the gateway drug to pajama jeans. But it was time. Those bidges were getting so tight, the indentations I was getting on my gut were starting to look like a topographic map. I think I could have clearly planned a route to the hospital out of the jean indents on my stomach. Which could actually come in convenient handy in 5 months…I’m still testing the waters with the belly band, which thankfully allows me to still wear the jeans but also makes me feel like I’m wearing a turtleneck around my stomach. These are my choices these days. Turtleneck… or belly map.
Truth is, I’m not quite sure what happened last week because all of sudden I started to look and feel super preg. Like… in a matter of 3 days. I had a regular Dr appointment last Wednesday to do my typical pee in a cup, weigh-in. (Sidenote: I swear every time I’m being weighed and I ask to take my shoes off first, the nurses give me this look like I’ve just asked them to borrow a kidney. But I really just want to be accurate! And how can we be accurate if I’m wearing 5 pound shoes? Moto boots are no joke.) Anyways, I told my doctor that just that morning I felt like I had a small air bubble in my belly. Which she said was probably because there’s a kid the size of an orange in my stomach and I’m starting to notice it taking up some space in my uterus. HEYO! Makes sense. The air bubble feeling has not subsided and actually seemed to get much more noticeable slash larger over the weekend. I truly feel like I grew more in 3 days than I have in the last 3 months. Not that I mind too much, it’s kinda fun to actually be able to tell that there’s something in there other than my breakfast burrito. I just hope it doesn’t continue at this pace for the next 164 days.
Now if only someone could tell us what to name our little air bubble, things would be fantastic. This naming stuff is hard. I’ve had favorite names throughout the years but now that it’s actually time to name a human for the rest of their life, it’s freaking stressful. It makes me start to sweat through my turtleneck. We actually thought we had some pretty great names sorta picked out about a month ago but since then have found out that in fact, no, we’re not very clever and 12 other people we know have already taken OUR names. (See also: everyone is having babies) Casey is also on a kick lately where he can only really grasp a girl name if he compares it to a lady celebrity who has the same name. He’s impossible. This is impossible. Someone. Halp us.
In other news, I was talking to my mom on the phone yesterday while driving home from work and I was telling her about the pain level in my boobies. Of course as I’m explaining the feeling, I’m holding on to my boobs, as one does. I’m at a stoplight and I look over and see a man in the car next to me, watching me fondle my ladies as I’m seemingly talking to myself (hands-free earbuds).
I wonder if he’s blogging about it today?
And one more belly shot for good measure.
Thanks for stopping by, friends.